


From This Day Forward

by misanthropiclycanthrope



Category: Burnt (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misanthropiclycanthrope/pseuds/misanthropiclycanthrope
Summary: Nothing says romance quite like a wedding.Unfortunately, some people are disasters when it comes to romance.





	From This Day Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingmonsters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingmonsters/gifts).



> What else is there to do at 2am besides find yet another way to get these two idiots together?
> 
> For Meg, always <3

The wedding had been beautiful, the weather obligingly bright and sunny, and everyone in high spirits. David still hadn’t quite lost the awestruck expression he’d been wearing all day, the one that said all his Christmases had come at once, and Sara had been glowing with happiness since she’d stepped into the aisle.

Now, however, with the reception in full swing, Tony was wondering how soon he could slip away without seeming impolite.

He’d waved away Kaitlin’s attempt to drag him up to the dance floor, content to sit at the edge of the festivities nursing a glass of wine. It’s not that he wasn’t pleased for the newlyweds, for he truly wished them every happiness, nor did he resent this opportunity for the entire team to relax and celebrate, for they all deserved it after a year of hard work.

It was the reminder. Of hopes dashed, wishes denied, fantasies long discarded.

And then there was Adam.

There must have been close to two hundred people crowded into the dining hall, familiar faces and strangers, eddying around him in waves and swells, but always somewhere there amongst them, larger than life and impossible to ignore: Adam Jones.

Tony had watched as he had taken a turn around the floor with every woman there: the bride, Helene, even Kaitlin, who had accepted with a dramatic roll of her eyes. And Lily, standing on his toes and giggling delightedly.

Try as he might, he just couldn’t look away from that brilliant smile, carefree in a way Tony hadn’t seen for years. It was mesmerizing, the easy sway of his body, no longer weighed down by the demons that had dogged his past.

And all at once the crush of bodies parted just as Adam looked his way. Their gazes caught, held; Adam’s grin blossomed into something bright and stunning, and Tony’s heart stuttered to a stop.

It was time to put an end to this torture.

Adam disappeared behind a group of guests, and Tony quickly cast his eye over the room, looking for David with the intention of passing on his congratulations and making a break for it.

“Not dancing, Tones?”

Startled, Tony spun to see Adam had appeared from somewhere behind him, an unfairly stealthy approach. Bow tie long discarded, the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked as casually disheveled and as ruggedly handsome as ever, and Tony was painfully aware he was staring but entirely unable to stop. Until he made the mistake of meeting those shockingly blue eyes and something leapt in his stomach. He quickly looked away, composed himself.

“No.”

“But it’s a wedding! You gotta dance at a wedding.”

“I don’t think there’s a law.”

Adam frowned, but wasn’t to be deterred. “Well, there should be.”

“I am happy here.” That was a lie, of course. He had been content, yes, but was feeling increasingly out of place and miserable as he chastised himself for his stupid crush.

“You’re not gonna turn me down, are you?”

“No, I…” It was too quick, too adamant. Tony caught his tongue before he could say something foolish, but he felt his ears burning. Adam was watching him as he tried not to squirm, locked in that all-too-knowing electric gaze. Then that incredible smile flashed again, and Adam was pulling Tony to his feet, hand held firm in strong, calloused fingers, and Tony stumbled along in his wake, ever willing to follow Adam Jones.

They held their own amongst the other dancers, a combination of Adam’s enthusiasm and Tony’s natural grace. Tony focused on the music, tried not to think too hard about exactly whom it was grasping his hand, spinning him around, and just enjoyed the moment. It was almost fun.

But then the music changed, the poppy dance track segueing into a softer melody, the tempo slowing. Tony froze, self-conscious as the dancing couples around him pulled their partners close, his hand still clasped in Adam’s firm grip.

Looking anywhere but at Adam, he tried to tell his feet to move, to slip away back to the safety of the buffet table, but they were slow to comply, made numb with discomfort. A gentle tug of his hand and his suddenly clumsy feet pitched him forward, almost falling into Adam. A stuttered apology on his lips, he made to pull away, but strong arms held him in place, braced against Adam’s broad chest.

“Adam?” His voice as unsteady as his legs, it was half question, half protest, and lacking any real strength. One hand at his hip, the other pressed flat between his shoulder blades, Adam began to move, leading them in a slow dance that was more a gentle sway. A small, sensible part of Tony’s brain told him to put a stop to this, that it was ridiculous to let it happen.

But he wasn’t strong enough to resist.

He brought his arms up and around Adam, completing their embrace, fingers curling into Adam’s shirt as if to anchor himself there. The music played on, but Tony barely heard it, his senses overwhelmed. There was only Adam: the heat of him, the smell of his cologne, the feel of him pressed chest-to-chest and the touch of his hands.

Adam was just that much taller than him that it was all too easy for Tony to drop his head onto that strong shoulder, let Adam hold him steady when even drawing in a breath past the constriction in his chest seemed a Herculean task, when he felt like he might fly apart if Adam let go.

Time stretched, suspending them in the moment as if it might last forever. But it was only an illusion, for then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. The last chords of the song faded, leaving a void into which reality started to creep. Tony didn’t want to move, was afraid to break whatever spell had granted him this brief pleasure, but Adam’s hand curled around the back of his neck, gave a gentle squeeze, and Tony reluctantly raised his head.

Adam didn’t let go. His hands lingered in place, keeping Tony close, his thumb sweeping a slow, soothing arc through the short hairs at Tony’s nape, and his gaze, piercing yet soft, was focused solely on Tony, as if he were the only person in the room. If life were fair, this would be the moment Adam kissed him, and for a fleeting moment he allowed himself to hope.

But the world is not a romance movie, and wishes don’t come true. The crushing truth twisted in Tony’s gut, caught in his throat, a lump of dejection he couldn’t swallow down, and he had to get out. He wrenched himself from Adam’s grasp, from the tattered remains of the ridiculous fantasy, and fled.

* * * *

“Here you are.”

Tony didn’t turn around, couldn’t quite bear to. “I needed some air.”

Adam stepped up beside him, and Tony could feel his gaze. The sun had set, leaving a chill in the air and turning the Thames into mirror, the lights of the city, the sweep of Tower Bridge, reflected in its still surface. Tony barely noticed.

“I’m sorry.” An apology was both surprising and puzzling, and there were perhaps a hundred things Adam should apologize for but not being in love with Tony was the one thing he had no influence over, and Tony couldn’t blame him for that. At the lack of a response, Adam continued, “If I made you uncomfortable in there.”

Tony gave a shrug. “Is not your fault.” And it wasn’t. It was Tony’s stupid infatuation.

There was a moment of silence, charged with something indefinable. Tony could feel the ache in his shoulders as he braced against it, shoring himself up once again after his moment of weakness.

Beside him, Adam shifted, restless, and Tony prepared to hear him state the facts he was already so painfully aware of.

_It was just a dance. It didn’t mean anything._

“I guess I got a bit caught up in the occasion, all these celebrations.” The knot in Tony’s stomach tightened, his eyes felt hot. How many times would Adam have to let him down before he got the message? “I started thinking, maybe I’m ready to give it a go myself.”

And that. That wasn’t what Tony had been expecting to hear. Now he did look at Adam, shocked.

“Marriage?”

Adam barked a laugh. “Fuck no! Not yet, anyway.” His amusement ebbed, face turning serious. “I meant romance, dating…” He hitched a shoulder. “A relationship, y’know?”

“Oh.” Of course. The rejection was to come with an explanation, an apology. Tony didn’t want to hear it. “Who is the lucky woman?”

“The…” Adam’s brow furrowed into a deep crease. “What?”

“You danced with many women tonight.” Tony tried not to sound bitter, disappointed. Feared he failed miserably. Adam’s vow – _no more women_ – was always doomed to be broken. “I assume you don’t plan to date them all? Or perhaps you do.” That last came out rather harshly, biting. He couldn’t help it.

“No, that’s not…” Adam seemed wrong-footed, like Tony had derailed his thoughts. “I don’t… Shit.” He stopped, took a breath, ran his hand through his hair. Tried again. “There’s only one person I really wanted to dance with tonight, and he ran away.”

Tony’s mind slammed to a halt. _What?_ “What?”

Adam grimaced, an apologetic acknowledgment of his error. “Yeah. I kinda fucked it up, didn’t I? Can you believe I was nervous?”

That surprised a laugh out of Tony. “You? Nervous?” Adam Jones, the man with the confidence to strut into his hotel after two years of silence and announce he was taking over his restaurant? 

But then Tony recalled the Adam who had almost gone to pieces over what they had believed to be a visit from Michelin, the stress and fear and tension that had built up and finally exploded in spectacular fashion.

Adam Jones only showed his nerves when the things he truly cared about were at stake.

“Can I start over?” Adam took a step closer, and, when Tony didn’t back away, risked lifting a hand to his face, cradling his jaw as if Tony were something precious, to be handled with utmost delicacy. “I wanna do this properly. With you.” Tony swayed, the world tilting beneath him. He wanted to argue, to insist that Adam must have lost his mind, gone crazy, but he could only stare, stunned silent. “If you’ll give me a chance?”

There was hope in Adam’s voice, but none of the self-assured aplomb he radiated in the kitchen, no posturing, no bluster. This mattered. _Tony_ mattered, and it was almost too much. Tony had never envisioned _this_ , had never considered it a possibility, and now it was right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do.

He was wary, baffled by this sudden change of heart. Was this a sudden revelation, or had Adam been harboring these feelings all this time, unwilling or unable to acknowledge them? Tony had a thousand questions, but was unable to utter a single word.

Adam waited, his usual whirlwind energy stilled, leaving only a patient appeal, and really there was only one response. Tony had never been able to deny Adam, and now that he was being offered everything in return, he would take that chance. On happiness.

On Adam.

Still too numb for such things as words, Tony nodded once, then again, more certain, decisive, _definite_ , and Adam’s face split into a smile, joy sparking in his crystal eyes, infinitely more beautiful than the shimmering city lights.

There would be time for explanations, for understanding, later. For now, there was only the need to seal the deal, to turn the fantasy into irrefutable truth, and it was Tony who stepped forward, surging up onto his toes and into a kiss that sent them both reeling.

It was affirmation and passion. A pledge. A promise they both intended to keep.


End file.
